quick link

• Freedarko's Shoals on his Sportingnews blog, re: Elton Brand disappointing his fans by supposedly stabbing his former team in the back. The moral and psychological projections fans make on athletes is a gold mine for social analysis, I think.
• "Elton Brand #42 NBA" has dealt well with disappointed fans before, a couple of you might remember.

Coming up, some reflections on gender and emotion, or something.

OK, just two more

Just two more mentions of basketball this month. Well, I'm sure I'll have something to say leading up to or immediately following Thursday's NBA draft, but I wanted to highlight a couple articles that even readers who aren't NBA fans might find interesting:

• An article about Len Bias, the #2 pick in the 1986 draft, and someone whose name comes up a lot at this time of year. For those who don't remember, Bias was the University of Maryland power forward drafted by the Celtics, who was expected to lengthen the Bird/McHale/Parrish dynasty, only to die of a cocaine overdose the day after the draft. I don't really remember this happening; I remember knowing that it was going on, and, although I was only 7, I suppose I might have remembered him from that year's Final Four, which I always watched, even then. I definitely didn't remember that his brother died a few years later, or even really pick up on the other Bias narratives at the time, other than, aside from the obvious tragedy, that this sort of doomed the Celtics for awhile, and that this was the downfall for the idea of college athletics as pure and innocent (despite how often college hoops is lauded over the NBA with a similar valence). The author of the piece, Michael Weinreb, spends time with Bias' mother, as well as a friend of the late Jay Bias, Len's younger brother, who was incarcerated for crack possession (given a sentence that Weinreb points out was three times as long for those of most murderers). As this might suggest, Weinreb ties the Bias story to America's response to crack (Bias OD'ed on powder cocaine, but the death of a young Black man to coca fed legislators' drive to lock up crack users), as well as presenting a fascinating case study of a young athlete caught between life stages and historical eras.


• A NY Times piece about Brandon Jennings, a top high school point guard I'd only recently been hearing about, expected to spend a year playing professionally in Europe. (Here's the King Kaufman column that lead me to it.) This is of course following the, in my opinion, dodgy collusion between the NBA, NCAA, and NBA players' union, to force elite American HS basketball to spend a year working for a college program, where they can risk injury and please boosters under the nurturing, watchful eye of the US sports media. Instead, Jennings will be paid to play, and Jennings and Kaufman assume that his game will develop and he will mature unproblematically, presumably while "dating" supermodels and developing a taste for fine art. I like both these articles and love Jennings' guts and drive here, but I can't help but notice a little idealizing of Ye Olde Worlde in both articles. You think he'll be safe from leeches and hangers on in Europe? He's going to develop financial and social savvy just by walking amongst sophisticated, art-appreciating Europeans? (I don't want to accuse the Times writer, William Rhoden, about whom I know nothing, or Kaufman, who I think is a thoughtful, enjoyable read and probably has a great social conscience, of racism, but I can't help but wonder if many other Americans who think this will be great for the kid think it'll be great for him to not be around so many other Black people.) I'd also like to add, in response to the positive references to the Euro leagues in both of these articles, we're seeing a pretty steady decline since 2001 (I'm referring to the draft that brought in Tony Parker, Pau Gasol [who, at least in this years NBA finals, decided to live up every negative stereotype about European athletes], and Mehmet Okur) in the quality of players who've come from the European leagues, at least in contrast to how highly they've been coveted. European players have been getting drafted way too high ever since the Spurs and the Mavs started making huge leaps with Parker and Dirk Nowitzki, and I have to say I disagree with the notion that Jennings will be playing a higher level of game in Spain than he would at a Big East, ACC, Big Te(leve)n, etc, school. But he won't be contributing to the bogus claim that he'd be there because we all value education. (For the record, I really like college basketball, I just prefer the game itself in the League.)

Anyway, enjoy.

"anything is possible!"

I haven't been writing a damn thing, paperwork excluded, for the last week, so, yeah. Whatever. I don't know why, maybe I'm just cranky, maybe I just have nothing to say. A lot of things in my life seem to be ending right now, and not many things beginning in their place. Times of transition, self-doubt, disappointment and a sense of opportunities lost, blah blah.

So I'm just going to briefly go back to last week's big story in my life, the NBA Finals; specifically, the much-discussed Kevin Garnett interview. Many cynical viewers I've talked to and read felt there was something distastefully performative in KG's display. My take was perhaps more naive; I was genuinely moved (as pointed out to me by a thoughtful observer, Garnett's accomplishment and his place in life are pretty meaningful to me right now, given my sense of transition), and felt like it was one of the more striking emotional displays I'd seen televised before. It felt like he was simultaneously emotionally regressing and growing and being pulled in a million different directions at once.

Whatever was going on with KG at the time, after hearing other peoples' more cynical takes on the interview and his season-long tendency to very publicly, before games and at key moments in front of fans and teammates, acting out exhuberantly, got me thinking the role of emotion in team sports. The friend I referred to parenthetically in the previous paragraph suggested that, from a group dynamics perspective, KG had been "holding" a lot of emotion for his team. Basically, the psychology of groups suggest that, within groups, individuals take on certain roles for the group, be they leader or scapegoat, the soother, the leader, etc. It's easier for us to notice this in other people's families, or for therapists to see it in a group, but I haven't heard it mentioned in professional sports, and I think KG this season has been a great example.

I'm often irritated by how sportswriters and fans single out athlete's behavior for analysis- I'm not talking about Kobe in Colorado or other extreme examples, just how athletes are often described as pouty or unpleasant, or "down-to-earth" and a team player. Part of what makes this irritating and stupid is how tied up in race this tends to be, but I'm not going into that here. But if we take Garnett 07-08 as a mini case study, I think we might consider how displays of intense emotion on the part of athletes can sometimes say more about the team and the moment than about the individual. One of the things that was compelling to me about this last year's Celtics team is the flip side of what a lot of people whose opinions I value dislike-- they're a little bit cobbled together and stylistically uneven. Although they played defense with an almost hive-like unity, they're players who for the most part just started playing together in the last season, which has often been reflected in their serviceable if uninspiring offensive play.

What interests me about a team like this is how difficult it must be, in a behind-the-scenes kind of way, to try to get a team like this to unite and win. Star players like Pierce, Garnett, and Allen, united in a common purpose but lacking one singular narrative to unite them. Their most compelling narratives (Pierce's long history in Boston and his 2000 brush with death, Garnett's conflicted and painful departure from Minnesota, Allen's family turmoil and uneven career) were, other than that of PP, intense, but having little or nothing to do with the grand narratives of the franchise and city for whom they played. Garnett's physically, affectively, and verbal veering and swooning in the post-game interview reflected this. I guess it enabled us-- disappointed not-so-young-anymore adults, pained Timberwolves and Lakers fans, vindicated Boston fans-- to fit it with our own narratives of what this season meant. Was it insincere? I don't think that question is useful very often at all, and it isn't for looking at KG's interview. Whether it was a display or an affectation doesn't take away from the meaningfulness of it all. I don't want to say that it had to happen, but it fit.

and as long as I've mentioned basketball today...

from Free Darko, a link to an interview with, and the blog of, professional basketball legend and cultural icon Spencer Haywood. (Haywood took the NBA to court in order to be able to play pro ball before his college class graduated; in his case, after his sophomore year. Haywood also led the 1968 US Olympic Basketball team to a gold medal.) Haven't read the blog yet, but in the interview, the man suggests that Carmelo needs to get rid of those braids. Oh yeah, and start playing tough in the paint.

More questionable developmental thinking in sportswriting

In this week's edition of "the deformed lovechild of free darko and fire joe morgan," let's look at one Miami sportswriter's concerns about all-but-certain top-two NBA draft pick Michael Beasley (I put the stuff in bold):

"I'm still a kid," [Beasley] says. "I'm learning day by day."
...From a personal standpoint, that's comforting, considering the pandemonium he has left in his wake.
No, this is not Caron Butler selling drugs and stashing
guns, only to learn ultimate lessons in solitary confinement.
This, instead, is the kid who sees how far he can push,
without ever pushing too far, the kid who places a dead rat in a teacher's
drawer, who signs his name in as many places as possible in prep school, who wore pajamas to his high school cafeteria, who once put glue on his cousin's underwear, who was suspended from kindergarten — yes, kindergarten — for cutting off a girl's pigtail.
The sum total: Banishment from more high schools than there are grades in
high school. In all, he attended seven schools in five states, a journey that
concluded at Notre Dame Prep in Fitchburg, Mass.
Since high school? Nothing more than a speeding violation.
Of course, "since high school" is just one year ago

I'm going to disregard the "banishment from.. high schools" part, after saying: This refers to a Washington Post article from last year that many people who know Beasley, including many quoted and referenced in the article, misrepresents and takes out of context Beasley's short tenure at these schools. (Basically, what all that boiled down to was the Beasley left schools for a variety of somewhat reasonable basketball reasons; "somewhat reasonable" if we consider the common practice of private high schools recruiting 14 year olds, and adults encouraging said kids to transfer schools for the purpose of increasing their exposure to potential endorsers, etc. Ultimately, Beasley left every school with the endorsement and encouragement of supportive adults in his life, who, while certainly having different priorities than I do, sound like they did care about the kid).

Anyway, let me get this straight. You want your reader be concerned that Beasley has certain, shall we say, temperamental or personality traits that will make his legacy more like that of Derrick Coleman or Vin Baker than Malone/Barkley/McHale/whomever. This is a fair concern, I guess, though I think it has more to do with the fact that, in this draft narrative, the other sure-fire top two 19 year old has been fairly arbitrarily granted the status of "mature, wise, non-uppity player," than anything driven by a realistic assessment of these two very young people.

So yeah, assuming this is a fair concern, assuming that Rose's perceived maturity is more a product of his own psychology than that of a tired old sports narrative that gets trotted out whenever we have to compare two hard-to-compare athletes, let's consider the evidence employed here. The writer uses the redemption of Caron Butler, a Racine, Wisconsin native famously "arrested 15 times before he turned 15." (Oooh! Was he the 7th son of a 7th son? Does he like Iron Maiden as much as I do?) Now the writer seems to assume that it was solitary confinement that redeemed Mr. Butler. While I'd really, really doubt that, let's say that something drastic was required to turn Butler away from his life of "selling drugs and stashing guns." The writer also seems to be assuming that Beasley has lacked this character-developing experience to redeem him from his past sins. I don't think that maturity is dependent on trauma, but I'll buy the fact that many times young athletes who've never heard "no" in their life might need a little extra reality check to be the kind of person we might hope.

The premise that I can't buy, not even for a second, is that any of this stuff Beasley did is all that worrisome. Cutting off a girls' pigtail? Cruel if a teenager does it, creepy if an adult does it. If a kindergartner does it? DUDE. THE KID WAS 5. He had NO IDEA what he was doing. (And what is with "-- yes, kindergarten--?" We're not talking about drug dealing or spousal abuse in kindergarten, which would be truly shocking. But anyway.) Playing a scary prank on a teacher? "Graffito tagging," as Marge Simpson worried about? Wearing pajamas in a high school cafeteria? Would this be the high school he attended that consisted of a basketball team and 12 ESL students that exists as an AAU vehicle, or one of his actual high schools? Either way, WHO CARES? Am I so off-base in thinking that this is fairly average behavior for a bored high school boy?

Even if I am off-base, and I'll admit the dead rat is a little creepy, I don't think that anyone sees these as more worrisome than bringing a gun to school, selling crack, and fathering a child at 14. These were things that Caron Butler did as a kid in Racine, and, by all accounts, he's become not only one of the best players in the Eastern Conference, but a really nice guy. Beasley was a kid who never had structure in his high school life, didn't have age-normative social expectations to make use of, and who responded to being treated like a star/investment in a way that many people would-- pushing limits in a relatively nonmalicious way. Ultimately, Beasley's mischevous response to an unstructured, chaotic environment in his teenage years is useless for predicting future behavior.

What the Chicago Bulls' new hire means for human development

I'm not trying to be a very poor man's FreeDarko today, but the basketball world's chattering classes are surprisingly a-twitter over rumors coming out of Chicago. (I say it's surprising because we are possibly two games away from one of the greatest NBA Finals' storylines in years, and sports talking heads all over are speculating about a possible head coaching hire by a 33-49 team.) Supposedly, the Bulls are set to re-hire Doug Collins, NBA tv analyst, Illinois State alum and former NBA all-star, Wizards coach, Pistons coach, and, most importantly, Michael Jordan's coach for the Bulls before Phil Jackson took over and drove the Air Jordan car to 6 NBA titles.

Common wisdom in Chicago has had it that Collins is a great expert on the game, but too much of a taskmaster to lead great basketball players in the present NBA. (Disregarding all the questionable implications implicit in this, and the fact that that immediately makes people think of newly deposed Scott Skiles, I can't shake a piece I read a few years ago about Collins unable to coach Jordan's Wizards team under 23's shadow.)

What do I think this has to do with human development? It's bringing to the forefront one of the more poorly understood questions in our lives: how much can adults change? One of the more immediate points being made is the following: Doug Collins is a head coach who couldn't win with Michael Jordan on his team. What can he do with Hinrich, Deng, Noah, etc?

There are a couple of ideas here I'd like to tease out. The most simple point here is that Jordan, greatest of all time or not, still came into the league without the maturity or teammates to win a championship. The Jordan that Doug Collins coached was not the same Jordan coached by Phil Jackson, plain and simple.

There are two other moving targets here: Doug Collins' coaching ability, and the NBA environment. While no immediate NBA examples come to mind, I'd like to point out a couple of examples from baseball of a coach leaving his role to be an analyist: Bob Brenly and Joe Torre were both able to take what they observed as analysts and apply it to their coaching style. (This is assuming you think a baseball manager or NBA coach have all that much to do with their team's success; I think both are pretty open questions, but think that, particularly in baseball, the players and their talent and cohesion matter much more. But I won't go there.)

A phrase I've heard a couple of times today is "a leopard doesn't change its spots." I think as a society we've retired a few cliches about how people can't change themselves and their place in the world: "there are no second acts in American lives" has been killed over and over again, for example. Here's hoping that Doug Collins can popularize a belief that I, and most of my colleagues, hold: that there is plenty of room to change oneself, and one's ability to thrive within their environment, even late into adulthood.